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Conjunx Endura
++ Iacon ++ Gleaming gold, silver and blue as far as the eye can see: the capital of Cybertron itself can be breathtaking to behold. Architecture both old and modern reflect a sense of stately order as well as artistic beauty, with gentle arches, gilded domes and spiraling towers that rise into the skyline. Even the walkpaths and roads are copper and bronze, the maintenance workers here diligently tending to them to prevent any kind of rust and corrosion. The city itself almost seems alive, with glowing power conduits in circuit pathways running along the streets and buildings, powering external lights and glowing holomatter signs. Cyan-colored crystal and glass windows reflect the hue of the sky in day, or glow from internal lighting at night. Populated mostly by high caste and above, Iacon is the seat of Cybertron's government, military and intellectual class. At the end of the main road into Iacon is Trion Square, which features an enormous video screen, every bit as big as a combiner, constantly flickering with news feeds, state-sponsored messages and advertisements. Translucentia Heights, the most elite residential area on Cybertron, is nestled into a corner of Iacon's living quarters. Energon refineries, technoversites, merchant plazas, a nurturing creche and even a nature preserve fall within the massive polity's boundaries, making Iacon one of the few completely self-sufficient cities on the planet. Feint has spent a relatively non-insane day at Blurr's apartment in Translucentia, and most of it has been busy in the middle of research. Using the global datanet, Teletraan-1, she's trying to learn the Cybertronian equivalent of the birds and the bees, as well as all the legal doctumentation thereof. The search has turned up a lot of information - and most of it is just not going to make either bot happy. Blurr is just returning from a busy day dealing with disappointed and overzealous fans/other supporters of his athletic career. Even though the races have been suspended for the time being, one might be surprised at the amount of things involved in being an athlete besides actual sports. Time and again, he's had to give the whole speech about how the races would be reinstated again soon, not to worry, they just had to get a date pinned down. And of course, his handlers want him to take advantage of the downtime to train more, so he's been quite busy. After a long work cycle he returns to his hab suite in Translucentia Heights and parks himself in front of a wall-sized videopane (yeah he did get that). Flipping it on, a reporter is speaking into the microphone. "...forces amassing outside of Kaon, Sentinel Prime says he's simply preparing for the worst, as rioting on the streets have been increasing in frequency -and- intensity." Feeds of Kaon are being displayed, where it seems the reporter isn't yanking a crankcase about those riots. "Heh, looks like Kaon's fixing up for some real drama." Blurr comments casually, then glances over at Feint. "Find anything?" Feint doesn't comment on Kaon. It's where she spent the better portion of her existence, and she has tried to tell Blurr over and over again about what it's like there - and why the riots may be happening - but he always seems to forget about it for reasons that elude her. There is no point, she reasons, in beating a dead drone over it. She walks over to where Blurr is sitting and takes a spot next to him, happy that he's home. The isolation is a bit daunting for her, but she has things to keep her busy. She's used to being surrounded by other laborers, so Blurr's presence is definitely welcome. "I'm afraid I have bad news. Even if we want to, we cannot legally register as conjunx endurae." She certainly does have things to keep her busy. If not the research, then there are plenty of toys to play with. Holographic simulators, vids, music, a dancefloor, games, drinks, just about anything she could possibly imagine. Blurr slings an arm around her shoulder once she sits down. "What? Why not?" he asks, frowning. She certainly does have things to keep her busy. If not the research, then there are plenty of toys to play with. Holographic simulators, vids, music, a dancefloor, games, drinks, just about anything she could possibly imagine. Blurr slings an arm around her shoulder once she sits down. At her mention that they can't register, he arches an optic ridge at her. "Oh, we have to register?" he frowns. "I didn't know we had to register. What happens if we don't?" "Well then it's not official in the eyes of the government," Feint explains. "You could not make medical decisions on my welfare, there would be no shared assets or wealth, and say in matters of kinship between either of us." The toys and games of the apartment barely crossed her mind. She has no experience with such things, and had no idea what some of them even -were-. Blurr ponders this for a moment. "Well of course we could share wealth, we already doing it anyway. They can't stop me from giving you access to my shanix or to my hab suite." he grins. "And medical decisions should be your choice anyway, right?" Then he frowns a little. "So why can't we register?" "If you were to be extinguished, I would be sold at auction along with your possessions," Feint explains, trying to help Blurr understand the reality of her life. "And if I were in stasis lock, I could not make decisions about my treatment. They will not let us register because I am a -disposable-, Blurr. In the eyes of the law I am /property/, not a /person/. I am a tool, a piece of equipment, no different than the couch we're sitting on." Blurr sighs. "Well there's nothing we can do about that, is there?" He shakes his head. "My stuff wouldn't be sold, the IAA would just take possession of it, I guess. Not sure what they'd do with it, but that's not important because I'm -not- going to be extinguished at least not any time soon." He smiles again, going back to his typical cheerful mood. "We'll think about if I ever start to think I might be dying sometime soon, yeah?" "That's just it, you never know when you might die. It's not something you plan out; accidents happen. It's better to prepare for the worst, and -then- hope for the best." At least between the two of them, Feint is sensible about some matters. "The only way to change my caste is to find some way to either qualify for the intellectual class or become alt-mode exempt. If I could change my caste -- even /low/ caste has the right to conjunx endura." "Well uh..." Blurr rubs the back of his neck. "So how would we go about changing your caste, then?" He has no idea about these things, at all. "Or qualify for the intellectual class?" He also looks uncomfortable, because he doesn't like talking about this 'you might die unexpectedly' stuff. "Well, there are a few ways, and most of them aren't all the legal," Feint sighs. "I have to prove that I'm valuable intellectually through some kind of scientific discipline or demonstration, or I can petition a guild assessor for an exemption or change of caste. Or I could find a point one percenter's spark and hope I don't die from its first flash, but that's about as likely as Sentinel Prime abolishing castes because he's /just that nice of a guy/." She's comfortable enough to use sarcasm! PROGRESS. "The loopholes are things like finding a sympathetic guild assessor who would take pity on me and change my status. Or a bribable one that could be paid to change my status. Or I could swap my frame for an entirely new one and be re-assigned by pretending to be newly manufactured." "Hmm." Blurr looks thoughtful, going over all of the options Feint has just mentioned. "Well, I do have a lot of shanix, so maybe bribing will work!" He says, grinning. He pats her. "Look Feint, don't worry. Everything will be fine. Worst comes to worst, it can just be between you and me. I'll...figure out a way to get the IAA to give you all my stuff if I die." "I don't need all your stuff. I much prefer -you- to that anyways," Feint softly asides. She puts a hand on Blurr's shoulder, and intentionally expands her sensor field until its enveloped the speedster. Carefully she attunes it to give off a sense of warm, radiatiant affection and sense of well-being, to attempt to wrap him up in a full-body invisible hug composed of her own positive feelings for him. It's definitely a good feeling. Blurr just relaxes and soaks it in. "Hey, look at that. That's nice." He squeezes her shoulder. "But I mean, in case I -did- die, you would have my stuff and my place at least, if I can arrange for that. I don't need the government! But don't worry it won't happen any time soon, anyway." "All right." She'll worry about it anyway, she has the feeling that someone will have to. "I'm glad you like it. I'm trying to control the field and what I put into it, as you've asked. Practice makes perfect." "So... I read about the other things conjunx endura do." The field ripples with giggling, embarassed mirth, which may come off unintentionally like a tickle. "Oh, right!" Blurr pulls a little card out of subspace. "I almost forgot, I was going to give you contact information for that guy I was talking about." He hands it to her. It has Rung's name on it, and the address of his clinic in Iacon. And then the strange little ripple in the emotion field. It's weird, but...he's sort of gotten used to it. And it's a good feeling. "...and?" he prods her to continue. "What did you find?" Feint dials back the field so she can concentrate on explanation without shunting accidental feelings onto Blurr. "They share -themselves-. Everything about who and what they are inside, their minds, their feelings, so that they know each other completely." Blurr nods vigorously. "Oh...yeah! I think I remember hearing that. That's exactly what I want." He pauses. "So." "How do we share each other? I mean, I'm guessing it's more than just talking about our feelings?" "A direct neural interface." Blurr repeats. "Okay, so how do we do that? Do we just, interface cable?" Feint nods. "Yes, from what I understand that's how it's done. There's all kinds of warnings about it though, how it shouldn't be done with a lot of other people, how it might alter your mind or personality, how it could create a bad feedback loop..." "Well of course there are warnings." Blurr dismisses. "There are risks for everything we do, so doesn't that mean we don't do anything?" He chuckles. "I mean, are you worried about it? If you are that's okay, we don't have to do it..." "Well... I'm an outlier. If we link up you might see things through my sensors, and it might be too much. I care about you, Blurr, I don't want to see you get hurt, so I'm just a little extra cautious, I guess," Feint explains. She smiles warmly. "But I -do- want to do this." "Understandable." Blurr nods. "But, tell you what, I'll let you in on a little secret. You wanna know how I'm so good at what I do? How I'm so fast? See, being able to move fast isn't all there is to being fast. Because there's a limit to how fast someone can go before their brains and sensors just can't even keep up. But me? I was designed with sensors and processors that -can- keep up." he grins. "It's why I can go so fast without crashing into things. Well, most of the time. You see what I mean?" Feint nods and chuckles. "Maybe it will be safe then after all." She sits closer. "Well, you should have an internal link cable somewhere on your frame," she says softly. "You still want to?" Blurr nods and brings it out. "I never realized people used it for this kind of thing." He pauses. "So, you know where it goes? Somewhere on our heads I'd think?" "Mine's on my upper right torso," the femme explains. She slides open an access plate under her collar strut, exposing several types of access ports. "I guess we go with whichever one fits." "You know I'm not sure where mine are..." Blurr looks pensive for a moment. "Oh." He looks down, and a plate on his arm slides back to reveal something similar. "This look right?" He starts experimenting with the cable, attempting to find the socket that fits it. Feint checks the fittings, and gives Blurr a hand with finding the correct port. "I think we only need one connection for this, so here goes!" She seats it in, her hand over Blurr's, and the handshake protocol begins. The connect has to sort itself out first; Blurr's programming is sifting through conversion code at the same time Feint's is. The effect is that each is establishing a gateway through the other's firewalls and internal defense programs, and these gateways are keyed only to each other. It will become a permanent fixture in their consciousness, once those barriers have been tunneled through. This has a direct effect on sensor systems, coming across as pleasant rush of warmth and elation. The gateways are established quickly due to a general level of compatability between the two, and within a few moments they are suddenly sharing each others senses. Consciousness is bridging between two bodies. Surface thoughts and emotions are now crystal clear between one another. Feint simply wants to please, enjoy Blurr's company, and assist him as best she can. Her thoughts are supportive and curious, and full of hope. Below that are very dark, unhappy memories. Oh, it's definitely a good feeling...strange, since Blurr's never felt it before, but good. In fact, amazing! He just sits there, reveling in it. "Woooow..." he sighs happily. His surface feelings are of curiosity and joy at this new connection he is sharing with Feint, it's like--almost exactly what he'd always been hoping for! It was true, all his life he'd longed for someone to know him truly and deeply. He'd had someone like that before...but now that someone is gone. Beyond the surface, secrets lurk. Feint's processors are working to syncronize with Blurr's; it begins a lazy spiraling back and forth, Feint to Blurr to Feint to Blurr to Feint as their different architecture and hardware try to share both bodies, running both Feint and Blurr together on the same systems. Sensors are fuzzy, overstimulated. The world feels haloed and pleasantly distorted around them. Memory files and deeper intentions become accessable, as do physical functions. Blurr can now see far beyond the visible light spectrum out of Feint's optics. He can see glow of energon and the bright pulse of his own spark inside and through his body. Feint's intentions are pure; she is a supporter and she dearly wishes to repay Blurr for all his kindness and generosity. There are vestiges of worry for Blurr's wellbeing. Her memory files are a long and repeating life of drudgery, deep in darkness, surrounded by toiling laborers in what feels like an endless cycle of repetetive tasks. There is a cave-in -- a rescue, as Feint struggles to move ore to get to the bright, glowing sparks of the miners trapped beneath. Wow...Feint's sensors really are amazing! A very distinct swell of awe comes over Blurr. Awe and admiration for her abilities! It's something he doesn't typically feel for others, given his -own- abilities. His intentions are also pure, at least as far as she's concerned. He feels compassion for her, due to her difficult past life, but he also doesn't understand it, really. He's convinced that she was illegally enslaved by a crime ring, probably Decepticons. As for his life, on the surface most of it is partying, racing, and more partying. There's been some drama, such as feeling betrayed by his previous unofficial 'conjunx endura', Rung. Being drugged by Starscream. Before that...is where the inconsistencies start. There's blanks...places where memories should have been but aren't. Or are just hidden. He's definitely been tampered with, on several occasions... Feint is overawed by the feeling of Blurr's body. It's like a thoroughbred ready to break into pure, addictive speed at any time. The agility, the speed, the control - it's as if Blurr can simply fly in two dimensions instead of three. The feedback loop between them is gathering speed as synchronization gets closer. More is accessible, and more of Feint is shared. There is a saddening flash of horror - looking at Tarantulas, listening to his plans, time being imprisoned in a white cell in the Institute, afraid. Being laid onto a circuit slab with magnetic locks to hold her fast. The old spider informing her that she would be his - as an arachnicon - and watching her own spark being lifted out of her frame --! And then rescue. Disbelief and joy and confusion all in one overpowering sensation. Comfort found just being with Blurr in safety. Aww...Blurr feels a sense of joy in being able to bring comfort and safety to Feint, as he witnesses what happened to her at the Institute. He's quite convinced that Solvent was the one behind it all, of course. Now it's become quite apparent also that he was right about his sensors and brain module being able to operate at an insane pace, thus allowing him to move at incredible speeds without crashing into everything. His mind is just...moving at the speed of lightning or something, constantly. It takes him half an astrosecond to process anything that his sensors pick up. Yes, it's no wonder he can move so fast! But even as Feint's systems might try get to deeper levels of access, there doesn't seem to be much beyond the racing and partying before the drama with Rung, and hazy memories of Starscream giving him drinks, and the spotty places where his memories seem truncated. But certainly there is something...? How did he get to being so famous? It's becoming too distracting to pursue Blurr's memories to the bottom, and Feint is respectful enough -- and wary enough -- not to try to let her consciousness occupy damaged memory files. Its risky and it could cause the connection to instantly abort (jarring and unpleasant) or worse, it could create corruption that would damage her own code. She herself has compression - she's around half a million years old. Young, but not nearly as young as Blurr. That rapid processing of his is making synchronization come on a lot faster than it would be for someone with standard neurosensor architechture. As their processor pulses happen closer together, lining up, the sensations shared are turning intensely pleasurable. Perhaps it's a good thing she doesn't. The damaged code might have caused problems. As the synchronization comes on faster, Blurr leans into Feint a little more. He is in a state of total bliss, having forgotten about the few worries he actually has in the world at the moment. He hadn't really been too concerned about the 'officialness' of this particular relationship, and still isn't. He doesn't like thinking about those 'what if I die' scenarios, or about the distant future at all. But not to say he's never thought about them. They've just...been buried. By someone other than himself. Someone who doesn't want him to think about those things. By who? But perhaps that is exactly the type of thing Feint wants to be careful to avoid. Then again, there is still that deep-seated longing there. For someone to know him, deeply and completely. Every secret, every dream, every doubt. Even in the places where most would rather not go.... Consequences? It's not like Feint has been making conservative choices lately! Complete synchronization is only a few seconds away, and she draws Blurr into a physical embrace, holding him close. Heat vents kick in to handle the overclocking. Her consciousness borders over along with Blurr, exploring him completely, for good or ill. Code is being shared that will leave data behind for each of them. Finally, the veils are pushed away, and everything comes to light. Before the races and partying...was isolation. Similar to what Shiftlock saw during her brief connection with Blurr, the truth that the racer's handlers, the Ibexian Athletic Association, had created his body themselves. They wanted the perfect racer, someone whose speed wouldn't be limited by his psychological functions. But as with almost any 'perfect' creation, there were always setbacks. Problems that weren't initially anticipated. At first, because his mind worked so quickly, it was impossible for him to remain focused on any one thing for too long. He would be up and about, constantly moving. Oh, and another side effect of that, was that he could not even speak properly, his words were always trying to come out as fast as he was thinking them, so it was virtually impossible to understand him. The researchers at the IAA had tried time and again to 'fix' him by altering various body parts, but with little success. In fact, he never would have been able to function normally in society if it hadn't been for Rung, who befriended him and helped him learn how to adapt to life in this world. He was the first person who cared... But there had been some sort of fallout between him and the IAA, it isn't clear exactly what happened, at least not from Blurr's perspective, he must not have understood it. Only that he wasn't allowed to him anymore. But life went on. There was the racing, and the partying, but as of late things had gotten a bit fuzzy. Here is where much of the broken code is...the missing memories, which are still either nonexistent or corrupted beyond repair--if she tries to go there, it might even corrupt her own code. There's anger at feeling betrayed, disillusionment, guilt, uncertainty about the future and depression even, but it's not really clear why or what happened to trigger it. Someone's forced him to bury those feelings, and with them whatever had caused them in the first place. Shiftlock, that fembot who had come to his hab suite that one night...on the surface he is convinced she's a criminal who was trying to steal from him, but deeper down there is actually a lot of confusion and lack of data. The way she'd behaved...it didn't quite make sense if she'd actually been trying to steal something. He hasn't thought about it a while. Again, it seems those thoughts have been supressed somehow. They're...struggling even now with Feint there, to come to light. Complete overlap comes with synchronization. Thinking simultaneously, both now experience what it is like to be the other from the inside out. With compassion and love, the little aerodrone acts to soften and repair the edges of Blurr's ragged memories; her mind is old enough and well-forged enough to teach his how to enact some self-repair routines to stabilize the damage, seal it off and enable some recovery. Mentally she tries to soothe away the anger and hurt lying around that damage, giving without asking anything in return. For a few brief seconds there's only perfect peak of bliss in unity, until natural limiters and programmed defenses act to prevent overheating and overwriting of each other's minds into a single being. The connection is kicked. The senses are fuddled and giddy as they begin resetting. Blurr...would try to help her in return, if he knew how to. But he's far too young to even scratch the surface of that, really. But her soothing helps. He calms down, and once they pull out, he takes a moment to adjust then just...gazes happily at her. After a thing like that, is there really any need for words? "Thank you." he says softly.